


You Were a Window to a World

by reversecow



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversecow/pseuds/reversecow
Summary: Luke’s flight from Edinburgh to London gets cancelled, and with it, his hopes of meeting his family for Christmas. He’s ready to go back to his student housing for a lonely holiday when a stranger saves the day. Unfortunately, due to the snowstorm, it takes much longer than expected to get where they need to go. Hours alone in the car and a night in a bed and breakfast leaves Luke with one burning question in the back of his mind; Why is Michael alone for Christmas?
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45
Collections: 5 Seconds of Ficmas





	You Were a Window to a World

**Author's Note:**

> Title from I Won't Lie by Go Radio

“ _ Attention passengers of flights 345, 4567 and 650 out of Edinburgh, your flights have been cancelled due to extreme weather conditions. Edinburgh Airport apologizes for this inconvenience. Please visit the ticketing kiosk for your airline to arrange a new flight or receive a refund. Happy Holidays!” _

  
“Fuck!” Luke curses under his breath, slumping in his seat. He’d been hoping for a miracle to come along, for the impending snowstorm not to impact his holiday plans in the slightest, but he supposes he was a bit naive to think that could happen. He enters the passcode on his phone and opens the website for the local train station. The trip to London would be slower than expected, but at least he would get there in time for dinner tomorrow. He scrolls for a moment: all trains cancelled. He sighs, slumping even further in his seat.

Every year, Lukes family travels from Australia to London. They do a home swap with a very nice family who hates the winter and loves the beach, and Luke’s family gets a white Christmas like in the movies. It’s been a tradition since he was a toddler, and he hasn’t ever missed it before. This year should have been easier than ever before, seeing as he’s been studying in Scotland for the last four months and it’s only a little over an hour long flight. But the weather has other plans for Luke, clearly, and he’s at a loss as to how to make it to his holiday plans.

He sets down his suitcase on the ground and sits on the curb outside the airport, his shoulders hunched while he opens the last hope he has, a ride sharing app. It would be expensive as hell, and probably not an option anyways for a journey that long, but Luke is hoping against hope that someone,  _ anyone,  _ might take pity on him. 

It’s a no go. In fact, it looks like nobody in the area is driving  _ anywhere  _ right now. Luke pouts, clicking his phone screen to black and resting his head in his hands miserably. Visions of his past Christmases run through his head. His parents cooking together. His brothers, pulling apart Christmas crackers right by his ears. The snow outside that made the holidays twinkle and glitter in just the right way. He’ll still have the snow, at least, he supposes. Snow and a wet, cold, family-less, unhappy, lonely-

“You look down,” a chirpy voice interrupts his thoughts. 

Luke startles, looking up at a dark figure that he can’t quite make out. The light is shining from behind the man and Luke blinks, holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. “Huh?”

The man moves out of the sun and to Luke’s side and Luke’s hand falls from his forehead. The man looks to be about his age, and he’s wearing all black, his shirt too long for him but still distinctly fashionable. He’s got a silver cross earring dangling from one ear and his blond hair is disheveled in a beautiful and intentional way. He’s very pretty, his eyes are bright green and he’s got a half empty bag of marshmallows in his left hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude,” he says to Luke. His accent is American and his voice is deep but playful. “You just looked so upset. You mind?” He points to the curb next to Luke and Luke shrugs.

“Sure, I guess,” Luke says quietly, and the man sits next to him on the curb. 

“Marshmallow?” he asks, offering the bag as Luke opens his phone again, trying hard to think of another possible way to get to London. 

“What?” he asks, distracted. “Oh, uh, no. Thank you.” He goes back to his phone, opening the train schedules again and willing them to be different than they are.

The man shrugs “Suit yourself.” He pops a marshmallow in his mouth, chewing and humming a little song. 

Luke clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude, I just, I’m trying to figure out how to get to London before Christmas and I don’t have a lot of time, I kind of have to focus,” he holds up his phone. 

The man nods. “Of course, sorry. Planes are down, though,” he offers, as if Luke wasn’t sitting outside the airport with his suitcase looking devastated. 

“I realize that,” Luke says. “Hence me, sitting on the curb.” He gestures to the curb, feeling like he really shouldn’t have to. 

The man nods. “Trains too.”

Luke sighs, closing out the window on his phone and putting his head in his arms. “Yup. Great,” he mumbles into his coat.

“Marshmallow?” the man offers again. Luke lifts his head and takes one, chewing sadly. 

“What are you going to London for?” the man asks lightly, brushing a bit of dust off the knee of his black jeans. 

Luke frowns. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Michael Clifford,” the man says around a mouthful of marshmallow. “What are you going to London for?”

Luke stares at him for a moment before he sighs. “My whole family’s there,” he explains to Michael. “My brother just had a baby, and I was going to meet her for the first time and now this snowstorm…” He takes another marshmallow, chewing it and gazing out at the terminal parking. “It doesn’t look good.”

“I’ll take you,” Michael says absentmindedly through his marshmallow, playing with the shoelace of his Doc Marten. 

Luke definitely misheard, though. Sure, Michael seems slightly eccentric, but there’s no way he just offered to drive Luke eight hours from Edinburgh to London. “You’ll what?” he asks, squinting at Michael. 

Michael shrugs, staring back at Luke. The green of his eyes is piercing and he’s wearing a pleasant smile. “I’ll take you to London.”

Luke’s still confused. “Are you...you’re going there?”

“I can be,” Michael tells him, easy as anything. 

“You don’t have plans?” Luke questions him, searching for an answer to his offer. There’s no way Michael’s free to take a stranger on a long car trip from one country to the next the day before Christmas Eve. Any other day, too, but especially around the holidays. 

Michael just pops another marshmallow in his mouth. “It would take what, seven, maybe eight hours? If the roads are fine?”

“Yeah, about,” Luke says hesitantly. “Maybe a little longer with the storm.”

“Great!” Michael smiles. “If we leave now, we’ll be there by midnight.”

“Why do you want to do this?” Luke asks. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Would a serial killer have given you two of his mini marshmallows?” Michael counters. 

Luke looks at him blankly. “Yes.” The only reason he even accepted the marshmallow was because Michael was eating them too. Otherwise he would have steered very far clear of the whole situation. 

Michael shrugs, nodding. “Fair enough. So maybe I am, who’s to say. The question is what are you willing to risk to meet that baby?”

“Aurora,” Luke says, his head falling back into his arms, warming his freezing cheeks in his pillowy down jacket again. 

“Right. Is she worth risking death?” Michael asks. 

Luke shrugs. “Sure, why not,” he says into the coat. 

“That was easy,” Michael says happily and a bit surprised. 

Luke lifts his head, furrowing his eyebrows at Michael. “I’ll be honest, you don’t give off particularly scary energy. Saying ‘that was easy’ made it a little worse but I’m still feeling okay about it.”

Michael jumps up from the curb, dusting off his ass unceremoniously and beckoning for Luke to follow him. “Alrighty then, get your stuff, uh…” he trails off, waiting for Luke to finish the sentence for him. 

“Luke,” Luke supplies. 

Michael nods. “Luke. Get your stuff and off we go!”

He has a bit of a skip in his step as he walks off into the parking lot, making a beeline for a lime green Kia. Luke grabs his suitcase and pulls it along with him as he follows Michael. He’s not really sure what just happened, or why, or who Michael is, but if he’s got a shot at a way to London, he’s taking it. He pushes his suitcase into the open trunk when he reaches the car. Michael’s already in the front seat waiting for him. He takes a deep breath and slams the trunk closed, slipping into the passenger seat as Michael starts the engine. 

\-----

They’ve been driving for three minutes, sharing marshmallows and not doing much in the way of talking. Luke’s hoping the whole eight hours isn’t going to follow in this fashion, because he’s feeling incredibly awkward. Every time he thinks he has the beginning of a conversation forming in his head, it leaves every time he sneaks a peek at Michael. He’s intimidating, is the thing. As nice as he was, offering Luke this ride and everything, he’s still a little hard to take in. He’s beautiful and confident, or at least good at faking it, and Luke feels strange trying to talk to him, like he’s not really allowed to. Or like he’s not cool enough to. He looks over at Michael driving and watches the sunlight glint off his earring. 

He’s so preoccupied with being intimidated that he barely notices Michael pulling into a gas station until he kills the engine and looks over at Luke, smiling brightly. 

“Six hours without snacks sounds like a nightmare, don’t you think?” he asks Luke. 

Luke does think, actually. It sounds awful. It was clearly a hypothetical question and not a real one as Michael’s already outside the car, walking towards the gas station food shop. Luke scrambles to unbuckle his seatbelt and follows Michael into the store. Michael’s in one of the snack aisles, tapping his polished nail against his chin. He turns to Luke. 

“Sweet or salty?” he asks. 

Luke shrugs. “Both?”

Michael grins. “That’s what I like in a man.” He grabs a bag of salt and pepper chips and a Snickers bar off the shelves. Luke blushes a bit. Even if Michael is a serial killer and this is an elaborate plot that leads to his eventual death, he’s still very pretty with his blond hair and his earring and his green, green eyes. 

Michael’s still looking at the bags of chips, studying them closely. “Would you think I was terribly American if I got pork rinds?” he asks Luke. 

Luke nods. “Yes. But I’d respect it all the same. I have no room to judge.” He nods to the food he’s collected off the shelf for himself in his arms, which includes a box of animal crackers, a bag of peach gummies and Ritz crackers with cheese. 

Michael raises his eyebrows. “You’re right, you don’t.” He grabs the pork rinds and walks slowly down the aisle.

Luke follows him, finding the nerve to talk a little more. “Speaking of America, where exactly are you from?” he asks Michael. 

“Born and raised in Los Angeles,” Michael tells him, picking out a jar of Nutella. 

Luke hums. “So you’re a long way from home, then.”

Michael nods. “I could say the same for you. Australian or New Zealand?” he asks.

“Australian,” Luke says. 

“Ah,” Michael says, “I can never tell the difference. My best friend is a New Zealander, he sounds exactly the same.”

Luke frowns. “That’s what you think.”

Michael hums, clearly not quite agreeing with Luke, just picking two more bags of marshmallows off the shelf and stuffing them under his elbow. He’s having some difficulty carrying everything he’s chosen now, and Luke smiles, finding him suddenly much less intimidating. 

“You love marshmallows, huh?” he observes. 

Michael makes a face that implies Luke is silly for even asking. “Well, it’s the holidays, isn’t it?”

“It is. Speaking of, you never said, what are you doing for-”

“Do you think gas station coffee is too much of a risk?” Michael asks, cutting him off mid-sentence. Luke is taken aback for a moment before he figures maybe it’s a sore subject for Michael and he drops it. 

“I’d say it’s the least risky thing you can buy hot from a gas station,” he decides. “Go forth and conquer.”

Michael heads to the coffee machines, struggling slightly to carry his items and Luke watches him pensively, wondering what he could be running from. 

\-----

Hour one. Luke can do this. He’s been on road trips before. Of course none of them involved him being alone with a beautiful stranger for eight hours, but he’s sure he can handle it fine. In fact, they’re two minutes out from the gas station and he’s feeling good about this. He has maps up on his phone and he’s taken charge of directing Michael how to get where they’re going when Michael hands his own phone over. Luke takes it, confused until Michael speaks. 

“Okay, music,” he says. “Now  _ this  _ might be the deciding factor in whether I let you stay the duration of the trip or drop you on the side of the road.”

Luke giggles. “Well, how about you tell me what you want to listen to so I don’t end up saying the wrong thing.” He’s truthfully dreading Michael’s answer, resigning himself to listening to something grungy and deafening for the rest of the day. He can already feel his ears bleeding. 

“Good choice,” Michael tells him. And then he pleasantly surprises Luke. “I like anything pop punk from the early 2000’s or anything that sounds like it from now, and occasionally a top 40 girl power anthem.” He holds up a finger in afterthought. “ _Or_ if I’m really feeling it, Michelle Branch. Your choice.”

Luke laughs a little, scrolling through Michael’s Spotify account. 

Michael frowns. “What?”

“Nothing,” Luke says, shrugging. “I just, I don’t know what I expected. Not that. Maybe underground metal I’ve never heard of.”

“Ah, don’t let my looks deceive you, Luke. I’m cheesier than I appear,” Michael says happily, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel when Luke picks out a song by State Champs. The aux cord makes a grinding noise and then a clicking before it finally starts to sound normal. “Oh, I love this one. You can stay.”

Luke smiles at him. “You’re just a marshmallow, aren’t you?”

“You are what you eat,” Michael says seriously. 

Luke laughs a little. “My brother used to tell me that all the time. He once convinced me I’d grow a corn stalk inside of me so tall it would come out of my mouth and I’d choke on it.”

Michael tuts. “And now he has a child, look what the world is coming to.”

“Actually, that was the other brother,” Luke tells him. He runs his fingers over the side of the passenger seat door. The rubber next to the handle is slightly sticky and he wonders if he dug his nails into it if they would leave little half moon imprints. 

“Oh? How many do you have?” Michael asks. 

“Just the two, Jack and Ben. It’s Jack who just had the baby. Ben’s older, but he’s not quite as settled,” Luke tells him. “Or at least, not as settled as my mom would like him to be.”

The song stops abruptly and Luke frowns. The phone still says that music is playing but they can’t hear anything. He fiddles with the aux cord a bit before sighing. “How does this thing work? Your car is impossible.”

“Well don’t blame me,” Michael tells him. “It’s a rental.”

Luke raises his eyebrows. “This car isn’t even yours and you’re driving it through a snowstorm?”

“Well I’m not going to drive my own, am I?” Michael scoffs. “Besides, It’s hardly a storm yet.”

Luke shrugs, but cheers slightly when he gets the music to work again, the song clicking slightly again before the music fills the car. He keeps scrolling through Michael’s music, queueing up songs on his phone. 

“What about you, then?” he asks. “Got any siblings?”

Michael shakes his head. “Nope, just me. I’ve got a friend, Calum, the New Zealander I told you about before. He’s the closest thing I’ve got to a brother.”

Luke nods. “He at home in LA?”

“Usually,” Michael says. “He and his boyfriend do Christmas together in Hawaii every year now. It’s sweet, they always take cheesy holiday pictures in Santa hats on the beach.” He smiles, and Luke can see there’s no bitterness that he’s not spending the holiday with his friend, only love for him and happiness for their situation. It makes Luke feel warm, and grateful that Michael is the one who found him at the airport. 

“That’s pretty cute,” he offers. 

Michael nods. “They’re unbearably cute sometimes.”

“So you two grew up together,” he asks, looking out the window at the swirling air. It isn’t a storm yet, Michael was right, but it’s not clear outside by any means. 

Michael nods again. “Known him since I was nine. He moved in four doors down from across the world and we’ve been best friends ever since.” He grins at the memory and then adds, “Barring one time when I stole his Princess of the Nile Barbie doll and he didn’t talk to me for a week until I gave it back.”

“Why did you take it?” Luke laughs. 

“Well, my parents refused to get me one and she was so pretty,” Michael says matter of factly. 

“Makes sense,” Luke says, still giggling slightly. “Are your parents close with his?”

“Ah, no,” Michael tells him. “No, not really. His are great though, super friendly. Always happy to have me for sleepovers. Joy even made me a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle costume to match Calum’s one year for Halloween,” he smiles softly. “It took her a whole week.”

“Sweet lady,” Luke says, watching Michael’s face as he’s lost in a memory. 

“The best,” Michael agrees. 

They fall silent, listening to Michelle Branch singing ‘Goodbye to You’, the wind whistling outside the car. 

\-----

“Popcorn and salsa.”

Luke wrinkles his nose. “Ew, pass.”

Michael’s mouth drops open. “Are you joking?”

Luke shakes his head. “That just sounds soggy.”

“Don’t knock it til you try it. I had it at a sleepover party once in middle school and I never looked back,” Michael says matter of factly, tapping his finger on the wheel in time to Waterparks. 

Luke snorts. “Excuse me if I don’t take middle school you’s word as the snack gospel,” he teases, and he’s surprised how natural it’s already become, joking with Michael. He feels like he’s known him for years. 

“It’s adult me’s word you're taking,” Michael tells him. “I just happened to discover it in middle school. And I did the world a favor. 

“Either way, pass. Okay, tuna and raisins.”

Michael makes a gagging noise. “I might throw you out of this car.”

Luke grins. “That one was a joke. Apples and hummus?”

Michael frowns. “Is that also a joke?”

“No.”

He shakes his head. “This is a dangerous game. Let’s play I Spy.”

“There’s nothing to spy around here,” Luke says. “It’s a barren stretch of nothing.”

Michael raises his eyebrows. “I spy someone with bad snack taste.”

Luke pouts. “That’s cold.”

Michael shrugs. “I’m just doing my best to match the temperature outside.”

He’s not wrong. It’s bitterly cold outside and the snow is coming down harder, visibility is getting more difficult. Luke bites his lip, looking out his side window and taking a deep breath, crossing his fingers that it doesn't get any worse.

\-----

Hour three. It’s hard to drive. Luke can tell, Michael keeps squinting and he’s clearly having trouble seeing. Maybe the word snowstorm wasn’t too dramatic, he thinks. There’s bits of snow sticking to his passenger side window and he can barely see the trees on the side of the road. It’s cold in the car, even with the heat on, and Luke’s shivering slightly. 

He clears his throat. “I hate to say this, but…”

“We were wrong and this is definitely a real snowstorm we possibly shouldn’t have driven in?” Michael finishes his sentence. 

“Yes,” Luke says, teeth chattering slightly. He’s never done well with cold weather. 

“Luke,” Michael says, “I know you wanted to get there by tonight, but I think we need to stop. It’s meant to slow down tomorrow but for tonight,” he sighs. “I don’t trust this Kia.”

“Neither do I,” Luke tells him. Truthfully, the car’s making funny squeaking noises every time Michael goes over 50, so they most likely wouldn’t have made it there by tonight anyways. It’s not a big deal, really. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and if they get there midday that’s still plenty of time to meet the baby and have dinner and listen to Ben’s stories about his cats. 

“I’ll look for somewhere nearby to stay,” Luke says, opening his phone and finding that by some miracle, he has 3G. They must be fairly close to a town. 

“Please, God, tell me I don’t have to spend the night in this Kia,” Michael says, squinting at the road. 

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Luke says. He does a Google search for nearby hotels and crosses his fingers his phone pulls through. The results load slowly and it takes a while before Luke’s able to find something with vacancy, but he does. A small bed and breakfast that’s about eighteen miles away called Toast and Toasty. It’s not in town, which is probably why it has a vacancy, but the reviews are good and the car is cold. 

“Okay, I found something,” Luke tells Michael. 

“Great!” Michael cheers. 

Luke frowns. “It doesn’t have a phone number.” He scrolls down the Google page for the bed and breakfast as there’s no website he can find for it, and he doesn’t see a phone number anywhere. 

“What hotel doesn’t have a phone number?” Michael asks, confused. 

Luke shrugs. “Beats me. But it’s our best shot, I think we should head that way. If this place doesn't work out, the Kia it is.” 

Michael grimaces. “Lead the way.”

\-----

“Okay, turn in here.”

It took too long to drive the eighteen miles to the bed and breakfast, Michael driving slower than ever through the icy winds until they finally reached a small dirt road a few miles outside town. 

“Is this a farm?” Michael asks, frowning as he follows the barely visible signs pointing them towards the bed and breakfast. “I’m confused.”

“It’s like...a farm hotel,” Luke explains. 

“But a farm,” Michael says blankly. 

“Do you have an issue with farms?” Luke asks. 

Michael sniffs. “As much as any city boy.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Look, see, it says bed and breakfast,” he points at the sign by the entrance of the renovated barn they’ve just parked in front of. 

“It’s a  _ barn,”  _ Michael protests, but he kills the engine and buttons up his coat, rubbing his slightly small hands together before he exits the car, running towards the front door. Luke smiles and follows him, stopping to drag his suitcase out of the trunk, tiny snowflakes attacking the top of it as he wheels it with some difficulty towards the entrance Michael’s waiting by, covered by a cheery yellow awning. 

The sign on the little blue door says open, so Luke turns the knob and they walk inside. The entryway to Toast and Toasty is cozy and full of pastels. There’s a front desk with a little bell and a sign that says  _ ‘ding me for service!’.  _ Picturesque landscape paintings cover the walls and there are tiny tables covered with trinkets filling every empty square foot. They can hear chattering coming from the room next door, and it smells like spiced apples. 

Michael shakes his head, whispering to Luke, “I’ve seen this movie, Luke, this is where we die, it’s too charming.” But Luke’s already ringing the tiny service bell.

“One moment!” a voice from the other room sings out, and Michael cringes. 

“We should do the Kia, let's do the Kia. This place is too cute, Luke, I don’t trust it.” He starts back towards the door but Luke pulls him back in while a lady bustles in from the room next door. She looks about sixty or seventy years old, and she’s wearing a hand knitted holiday sweater and jeans that look about as old as she is. There’s a lacy apron over her clothes with a jam stain on it and she’s wearing a kind smile. Luke instantly feels at ease and he can feel Michael’s shoulders relax slightly next to him. He keeps his hand on Michael’s arm. He could let go, but he finds himself not wanting to. 

“I do apologize, I wasn’t expecting company,” she says, rifling through some papers on the front desk. Her voice is slightly gruff but in a sweet way, and Luke can tell she’s spent most of her life nurturing other people. “We don’t normally have much business this time of year, more of a spring and summer destination, you know, with the weather and how remote it is here,” she says, gesturing to the snow outside.

She looks up at them, smiling, until her eyes land on Michael, who’s shivering and sniffling slightly, still close to the front door. “Goodness, look at you both, you’ll catch your death,” she tuts, “Now, did you call in for a room or are we just dropping by in the storm?”

“Uh, we couldn’t find a phone number,” Luke tells her, biting his lip and hoping to god that there’s still vacancy. If there’s really not a number online it’s possible they’re completely booked up and the Kia really is going to be their bed for the night. 

The woman waves his comment off. “Ah, it’s not on the line, and I suppose most people don’t have telephone books handy these days.” Luke smiles at her misuse of words. “No worry,” she continues. “I have a room, I always have a room. And a nice hot shower, yes, although I must tell you, the heating is dodgy in this whole place, all you have to do is pull the space heater by the bed and you’ll be cozy.”

She hands over keys and Luke stares at them. “Do we, um, pay now, or…”

She waves him off. “Tomorrow, everything tomorrow, darling, I’ve got a cake in the oven, now please go warm yourselves up, I can’t bear to look at you another minute like that,” she gestures to their soaked clothes while she walks out from behind the counter, beckoning them to follow her to a small staircase in the corner of the room. “You’ll be in room B, right up the stairs to the left. Breakfast starts at eight, goes until ten. And if you need anything, just holler out for me! Adeline, alright? I’ll be down here til all hours, God knows I never sleep anymore.”

“Thank you so much,” Luke says, and Michael echoes him. She waves them off and they ascend the staircase, Luke dragging his suitcase along with him. The hallway upstairs is wallpapered with flowers and covered in family photos.

“This felt almost too easy,” Michael says

“I know,” Luke agrees. Toast and Toasty feels like a tiny little miracle in the middle of nowhere. Nevertheless, he’s not questioning it. They’re lucky to be indoors right now. 

He jams the key in the lock and turns it. It sticks a few times before it creaks open and they walk inside. The room is small with wooden walls and low rafters, there’s a queen bed and a small bathroom attached, and an armchair covered in a handmade quilt. There’s an antique rocking horse in the corner and a space heater next to it.

Luke heads straight to the heater and flips the on switch. “I’ll take the floor if I can have first shower.”

Michael shrugs. “We could just go together, save water,” he says teasingly, winking at Luke. 

Luke laughs a little, blushing. “I think that’s moving a little fast for me, to be honest.”

Michael shrugs. “Suit yourself. But if you use all the hot water, you’re a dead man,” he tells Luke. 

Luke sighs. “I knew this was all a plot to kill me.”

Michael raises his eyebrows, taking off his wet coat and holding his hands up to the space heater to warm them. “I have motive now. You took first shower.”

Luke chuckles and takes off his coat, rummaging through his suitcase to find his pajamas and taking them into the bathroom with him. He spends a few minutes fiddling with the shower knobs before he gets the water to work. He brushes his teeth quickly while he waits for the shower to heat up and then steps in, breathing a sigh of relief when the hot water hits his shoulders and closes his eyes, thinking back on his day. He’d thought by this time tonight he’d be unpacked in his room at the London house, full of his mom’s cooking and playing with Jack’s new baby on the couch. Instead, he’s in a Scottish bed and breakfast shower, full of animal crackers, cheese popcorn and chocolate. 

Still, he can’t bring himself to be bothered by the situation at all, and he thinks that has quite a bit to do with Michael. Were it any other stranger that had happened upon him in the airport lot, Luke wouldn’t be half as sorry that this road trip had a quickly approaching end date. In fact, he most likely wouldn’t have gone with anyone else in the first place, but Michael was just so magnetic and captivating, Luke probably would have said yes to anything he’d proposed. Once he'd gotten over the initial feeling of intimidation, Luke found himself feeling more at home around Michael than he’s ever felt with someone after just a few hours. Michael is witty, and he’s spontaneous, and his earring and his eyes are sparkly and Luke could probably watch him for much longer than an eight hour road trip and be perfectly content. 

The hot water feels incredible but at the risk of stealing it all and leaving none or Michael, he cuts the water and steps out of the shower. He shivers slightly with the change of temperature in the tiny bathroom and towels off quickly, grabbing his pajamas off the sink and pulling them on. He wipes the condensation off the small mirror and gives himself a once over. He looks a bit like a drowned rat, but at least he’s clean and warm. 

He sighs, stretching and opening the bathroom door. Michael darts past him as soon as he does, tapping him on the hip and winking. “Thanks for warming it up.”

Luke grins, shaking his head as the door closes and he hears the water turn back on, his hip feeling even warmer where Michael had touched it than before. He heads to the armchair, pulling off a mound of blankets and rearranging them into a sort of nest on the floor by the heater and crawling inside. He pulls out his phone, hoping to send a text to his family that he’s had to stop driving for the night, but he should have predicted he wouldn’t have service. He pulls open his photo gallery, mindlessly scrolling through old screenshots and giggling to himself every now and then. 

He hears the water turn off in the bathroom and his heart picks up in spite of himself. He finds himself rearranging the way he’s lying down so he’ll look a little cuter when Michael comes out of the bathroom, at the same time admonishing himself for acting like he’s in middle school. 

The door starts to open and he looks pointedly down at his phone until he hears Michael clear his throat. Luke looks up and gulps when he sees Michael leaning against the doorframe with just a blue towel wrapped around his waist, his wet hair pushed back off his forehead. 

“I left my clothes in the car,” Michael states loudly. 

“You left your clothes in the car,” Luke echoes him dumbly. 

Michael raises his eyebrows, laughing a bit. “Yeah. You got something I can borrow for the night?”

Luke nods mechanically, exiting his blanket nest quickly and rummaging through his suitcase, finding a pair of sweats and a hoodie that should fit fine. He tosses them to Michael, blushing slightly and Michael salutes him before heading back into the bathroom to change. He exhales hard once Michael is out of sight and settles back on the floor for the night. 

\-----

It's freezing. Luke’s trying his hardest to get comfortable on the floor in his blanket nest but it’s not insulated enough and he’s shaking, scooting slightly closer to the heater in hopes that being near it will warm his feet slightly. Every time he tries to cover his shoulders with a blanket, his ankles pop out, and he curses himself for continuing to grow past six feet tall. 

He hears Michael snort from the bed and at first he thinks he’s asleep until Michael says, “I can hear your bones rattling down there.”

Luke frowns. “Sorry, I’ll calm them down. Do forgive me,” he bites back, clutching his blanket over his ankles in vain. 

“Will you just get up here?” Michael asks, and Luke blinks. That wasn’t where he thought this talk was going at all, but he’s not going to turn down a warm bed. Especially not one with Michael in it, even if the idea makes him a little nervous. 

Luke scrambles out of his blanket nest, grabbing them off the floor and taking them with him to the bed as extra warmth. Although when he gets under the covers he finds he doesn’t even need them. The comforter is cozy and warm and Michael’s body heat makes it even warmer and he snuggles in happily, letting the bed thaw hs freezing toes. 

“You know,” Michael whispers to him. Luke blinks, looking at him in the moonlight. There’s a big window across the room that the light is filtering through and it illuminates the paleness of Michael’s skin, casting a glow over him almost like he’s lit from within. He’s so close to Luke he could count every individual eyelash, and he wants to. Luke holds back a sigh. “This isn’t fair,” Michael continues. “You were supposed to suffer down there for taking the first shower.”

Luke giggles slightly and shrugs. “Looks get you everywhere,” he jokes. 

Michael grins. “I guess so.”

Luke blushes in the dark, looking down at the pillowcase and biting his lip. Michael is silent but he’s still looking at Luke like he’s waiting for him to ask something. Probably because he can tell Luke has something to ask. 

“Michael,” he whispers. 

“Hmm?”

“Why did you offer to take me to London?” he asks. 

Michael smiles, rolling over so he’s looking at the ceiling, lying on his back. “I wasn’t doing anything else, was I? My flight got cancelled too.”

Luke takes a risk, scooting slightly closer to Michael so he’s cuddled into his side for warmth, and he smiles when Michael pulls him in, wrapping an arm around him comfortingly. “Where were you going?”

Michael sighs and takes a moment to answer. “Anywhere.”

Luke frowns. He’d assumed Michael was traveling further than him and wouldn't be able to drive to his destination in time, but it doesn’t seem like he had much of a plan, even with being at the airport. Luke stares out the window at the swirling snow making patterns in the air outside, glinting in the moonlight. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Michael says, and Luke nods. 

“Beautiful. That’s why my family goes to London every year, for the snow,” he whispers. 

Michael is quiet for a minute, running his hand along the sleeve of Luke’s pajama top thoughtfully. “You know, my Nana used to tell me when I was little that if you could catch a snowflake on your tongue, you'd have a perfect Christmas, every year.”

“Did you ever do it?” Luke asks him. 

Michael laughs slightly, but it’s without humor. “I didn't believe her. I never tried.”

Luke doesn’t say anything back, just snuggles further into Michael and closes his eyes, falling asleep quickly now that his feet are warm and Michael’s hand is rubbing down his arm soothingly. 

\-----

They wake up tangled in each other. Or rather, Luke wakes up. Michael is still asleep, breathing evenly against Luke’s pajama shirt, his arm wrapped around his waist tightly. Luke stares at him, admiring the pink in his cheeks and the messy way his hair falls over his forehead. He carefully takes Michael’s arm and tucks it into his chest, rolling away from him and getting out of bed, grimacing when cool air hits his body. He grabs his clothes from yesterday that have dried next to the heater and heads into the bathroom, changing quickly and folding up his pajamas neatly. When he exits the bathroom Michael is still fast asleep and snoring lightly.

He checks his phone for the time and sees that he’s up earlier than he thought he would be, an hour before his alarm was set to go off at nine. He could be nice and let Michael sleep, but a big part of him, even though he loves watching Michael at peace and asleep, misses talking to him when he’s not awake. 

Luke grabs his clothes off the armchair and tosses them at his face, and Michael snuffles and groans. “Why.”

“Breakfast is the best part of a bed and breakfast,” Luke tells him. 

Michael huffs, shaking his head and pulling the covers over his ears, snuggling further into the sheets. “That is where we disagree,” he says, his voice muffled in the fabric. 

Luke pouts. “Come on, I bet Adeline makes good food. She has that vibe.”

“Good food vibe?” Michael’s muffled voice asks questioningly. 

“Good food vibe,” Luke confirms. 

Michael shrugs halfheartedly under the covers and then sighs. “I can’t lie, she does. Give me five minutes?”

Luke grins, satisfied. “I’ll meet you down there.”

He shuts the creaking wooden door to their room behind himself and shuffles down the tiny hall, descending the stairs quietly, careful not to bother any other possible guests who might be sleeping in. He finds himself back in the front entryway, which is just as charming during the day as it is at night. He pays more attention to the decorations now, tiny figurines of cats and ducks, little Scottish men in kilts and Lagavulin whiskey paraphernalia littering the tiny tables. He follows a sign that reads ‘ _ Breakfast Nook’  _ into the room they’d heard Adeline’s voice coming from last night. 

He peeks around the corner to the breakfast nook. There’s an old man sitting at a large table in a brightly lit dining area that’s immediately connected to a kitchen. He’s squinting hard at a newspaper and drinking tea out of a mug that’s got Donald Duck on it. Luke looks to the kitchen, where he can see Adeline. Her back is turned to him and she’s pulling a pastry sheet out of the oven, placing it on the stovetop to the side. The walls are papered in the same floral design as upstairs, and there’s a cuckoo clock mounted on the furthest wall.

“Son, come sit down, you’re making me nervous, looking around like summat’s about to hunt you down and stuff you,” a gruff voice says, and Luke startles slightly, looking over at the old man, who’s gesturing to the seat next to his at the dining table. 

“Oh, let him get his bearings, Jim, he’s shy,” Adeline says admonishingly. “Come here though, love, he’s right, have a pastry, make yourself at home,” she tells Luke, bustling over and helping him into a chair, pushing a mug and a kettle of tea in front of him and a plate of croissants and berry tarts. 

“Thank you, you’re very kind,” Luke tells her, grabbing a tart and nibbling on the edge of it. It tastes amazing, she’s clearly got a talent for baking. 

“Don’t you mention it,” Adeline smiles at him, and then raises her eyebrows and points at Jim.”Don’t mind my husband, either, he lost his manners years ago. After I married him, mind you.”

She still looks fondly at him, though, and Luke smiles, pouring himself some tea and taking another bite of his tart. 

“Ah, he took no offense, did you?” Jim says, waving his hand in the air mindlessly. “This young man knows old codgers like me can’t be blamed for getting straight to the point, I haven’t got much time left, Adeline,” he reminds her. 

Adeline snorts. “Oh, hush, you, eat your breakfast and be good to our guests.” She turns to Luke. “You two are the only ones awake yet, you know. The other two rooms must be having a lie in. Or at least, you're up...where’s the young man you came in with? Would he prefer chocolate or raspberry?” She holds up the next plate of pastries and Luke is about to answer that he thinks chocolate when an answer comes from the doorway. 

“Chocolate, please, ma’am,” he hears, and looks up to see Michael standing there, his eyes still slightly puffy from sleep and his hair artfully messy as always. 

“Oh, good! Please, call me Adeline,” she tells him, and hurries to Michael with a couple of chocolate chip scones on a pink china plate. 

Michael gives her a little curtsy. “Thank you so much, these look amazing.”

Adeline waves off the thanks. “And you’re American! How exciting! Anywhere I’d have heard of?”

“Straight out of Hollywood, Adeline,” Michael tells her. He winks and Adeline gasps. She sits down with him at the table, across from Jim and Luke.

“How many movie stars do you know?” 

Michael dives into a long and complex story that involves him bumping into George Clooney at the grocery store, Adeline listening with rapt attention. Luke is almost certain it’s a tall tale, but he’s not one to jump in and point this out, especially with Adeline hanging on his every word, so invested in the story. 

“Quite a pair, aren’t they?” Jim says from the seat next to his.

“They are,” Luke watches, smiling as Michael gesticulates wildly and Adeline gasps. 

“She’s always been like this, you know,” Jim tells him. “Got a magic quality about her that just draws people in. Right when I met her I knew I’d be happy just to watch her be magic for the rest of my life.” he says. His voice is gruff but quiet, and when Luke looks at him watching Adeline, it’s with a misty, captivated look in his eyes that Luke can tell has been there for years. 

He nudges Luke. “Have a feeling you know what that’s like, eh?” He gestures to Michael and gives Luke a knowing look. 

Luke blushes and looks down. He nods his head, only because it’s easier to let Jim think that he feels the same for Michael. He doesn’t, at least not yet. It’s much, much too early, but at the same time, as he watches Michael speak animatedly at the table, pausing to take a bit of his scone, he almost knows exactly what Jim means about magic. 

\-----

After they’ve eaten their fill of pastries and said their thanks to Adeline and Jim, they’re back on the road in the Kia that thankfully survived the night. They’re about three hours away, give or take, and Luke is starting to feel sad. He’s excited to see his family again, and meet the baby, but the idea of Michael dropping him off and driving away is starting to weigh heavy on his mind. He knows he’s growing too fond of Michael too fast, but it’s hard to slow down his affection when he can still feel how Michael’s hand felt rubbing circles into his arm last night. It’s the same hand that’s gripping the steering wheel lightly now, tapping along to Mr. Brightside. 

Luke looks down at his phone to see the time and bites his lip when he debates what he’s about to say, looking to his side and studying Michael.

“Hey, it’s only one.”

Michael nods. “You’re incredible at reading phone clocks.”

“Thank you,” Luke says. “No, but, it’s only  _ one.  _ My mom won’t start cooking til at least six. Do you want to stop for coffee somewhere?” he asks tentatively, crossing his fingers out of Michael’s eyeline.

“Are you sure?” Michael asks. He frowns a little. “I don’t want to make you late.”

Luke nods eagerly. “Yeah, I’m sure. Let’s stop at the next place we see, yeah?”

Michael shrugs, smiling. “You got it, baby.”

Luke blushes at the name, looking out the window at the snowy fields. He’s happy Michael said yes, but there’s a curiosity gnawing at him, wondering why Michael doesn’t have a schedule, why he’s able to say yes to everything. 

\----- 

“What do you do? In LA.”

Luke sips his hot chocolate and glances at Michael while they walk. They’d found a tiny town to stop in a few miles after Luke had suggested it and gotten their drinks, and they’re walking down a very picturesque snowy alleyway at the moment. The snow is crunchy and fresh underfoot but the sun is out and it’s the perfect weather for a walk. Michael got a coffee and a cupcake, despite the chocolate scones he’d demolished earlier, and he’s licking the frosting off his fingers happily. 

“I'm a student too. Journalism,” Michael says through his last bite of cupcake. “But I bartend on the weekends so I can afford my trinkets.”

Luke laughs. “Your trinkets?”

“I have expensive taste. It’s a character flaw,” Michael tells him mournfully, waggling the many rings on his fingers in front of Luke’s face.

“Journalism, though, huh?”

Michael nods. “Yeah, I like to write. It helps me understand the world around me, writing things down.” He shrugs, sipping his coffee. “Making sense of them.”

“I’d love to make sense of the world someday,” Luke says, cuddling his drink in his cold hands. 

Mchael snorts. “I’d love to see  _ you  _ try.”

Luke sticks out his tongue playfully, turning a corner quickly to leave Michael behind in protest. In a hundred feet or so there’s a wooden picket fence that’s enclosing a field covered in snow. It stretches for a few acres like a giant white blanket and sparkles in the sun.

“Look!” he shouts, jogging up to the fence and staring in awe at the scenery. Michael turns the corner after him, catching up to him. 

“ We have to make a snowman,” Luke says excitedly. 

“You have to get to London in time for dinner,” Michael reminds him tentatively. 

“And it’s only  _ two _ . Come on, don’t be a stick in the mud.”

Michael shakes his head but he smiles, polishing off his coffee and dumping in in a trash can nearby. He hops over the small fence. Luke grins and follows him, clumsily climbing over and crunching through the snow to the middle of the field. 

They spend a good half hour rolling out the body and head of a small snowman, using Luke’s bobble hat and Michael’s sunglasses as accessories. Michael names him Anthony and pats him on the head before he falls to the ground to make a snow angel.

“C’mere,” he says, gesturing to the ground next to him. Luke falls on his back, letting the snow catch him and spreading out his arms. He bites his lip, looking up at the blue sky and frowning. He’s tried to ask this question now, twice, and it’s possible Michael just doesn’t want to answer, but he decides to give it one more go before he gives up on it. 

“Why are you alone for Christmas?”

The snowy field is quiet and cold, and Michael doesn’t answer. Luke holds his breath for a moment, blinking up at the sky. He hopes he hasn’t ruined the fun they were having, but as he feels himself being drawn close to Michael, he wants to know everything he can about him. 

“I’ve never been close with my parents.”

Michael’s voice is quiet and Luke exhales slightly, finding that he doesn’t sound upset. 

“When I was a kid, they were always away on business, I saw them maybe once a month.” He explains. “My Nana raised me, we spent all our time together when I was young.” His voice has a lilt to it, and Luke can tell he’s smiling at the memory while he talks. “She loved Christmas, she made hundreds of cookies every year and chopped down her own tree so we could decorate it together. She made the holiday for me.”

He pauses. “She died when I was seventeen.”

Luke frowns. He’d been expecting Michael to say it but it does nothing to ease the pain he can hear in his voice. 

“After that, I spent a year or two with Calum’s family, but I always felt out of place.” Michael digs his hand into the layer of snow underneath it and takes a handful, balling it up and throwing it listlessly at the snowman. It hits him and puffs into a cloud. “It wasn’t my Christmas. I lost my Christmas. Now, every December, I take two weeks off work and travel. Just go wherever my heart takes me and forget what time of year it is if I can.”

“You miss it, though,” Luke says. It’s not a question, he can hear it in Michael’s voice. 

“More than I can say. But it’s not coming back, and if I run from it, I can get some peace of mind, at least for a little,” Michael says, shrugging. 

Luke rolls his head to the side to look at Michael, but without his hat on, it’s freezing and he looks back up at the clouds. “So that’s why you were so ready to take me on a road trip.”

“My flight to Iceland was cancelled and I sure as hell wasn’t about to stay put alone in a Scotland hotel for the holidays,” Michael tells him, stretching as he sits up and yawns cutely. 

Luke nods, finding himself stuck, staring at the way Michael’s eyes gleam in the sun. They’re filled with a hundred different things; sadness, resignation, contentedness, and if Luke isn’t just flattering himself, a flirtatious edge that becomes apparent when he speaks next.

“Besides, you looked too pretty and sad sitting on that curb to pass up. I couldn’t help myself.”

Luke giggles, sitting up next to Michael. He can feel himself blushing again and tries to distract Michael from it by picking up a handful of snow and pelting it at his chest.

Michael gasps. “Oh, you’re dead.”

\-----

They’re half an hour away.

“Can we stop?” Luke asks. “I want to say hi to the cows.” He’s looking out the window, trying desperately to think of a reason he needs Michael to stop or at the very least slow down, and there’s a field of cattle outside. Luke stares at them, thinking bitterly of how lucky they are to be standing in one place together. 

“Luke, we’re so close. You can say hi through the window,” Michael says, shaking his head. 

“It’s not the same. Please?” Luke pleads with him, but Michael keeps driving and soon the cows are tiny pinpricks in the rearview mirror. Luke feels like he left a little bit of himself with them. 

“We’re almost there, you can do it,” Michael says teasingly. He’s under the impression that Luke just gets antsy when he’s in a car for too long, and to be honest, it’s less embarrassing than Luke admitting to him that he just wants them to spend more time together. So Luke lets him think that, and he just smiles and rolls his eyes, playing along with the teasing as they reach the city limits. 

\-----

“Where will you go?”

Luke is standing on the curb outside the rented house, and he’s clutching the handle of his suitcase. Michael helped him get it out of the trunk, shutting it forcefully and hopping onto the sidewalk to say goodbye

“Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging. “But I know I’ll end up somewhere. Wherever I’m meant to be.”

Luke frowns, looking down at his feet and crossing his arms, thinking about Michael getting in the car and driving off without a destination in mind and his stomach twists. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“You sure wouldn’t,” Michael agrees, huffing out a small laugh and raising his eyebrows. 

“Isn’t there anything I can do to say thank you?” Luke asks him, desperate to keep Michael standing next to him on the sidewalk as long as possible. 

Michael smiles, shrugging. “I accept payment in hugs.” 

Luke grins, uncrossing his arms and holding them open. Michael hugs him tightly, the messy blond hairs on his head brushing against Luke’s chin and Luke resists the urge to press a kiss to his forehead, settling for rubbing his hand on his upper back.

“Can I at least get your number?” he asks, his voice soft and hopeful. 

Michael smiles against his chest. “Ooooh, I see what all this was about. Just trying to get in my pants, weren’t you?” he teases, and Luke rolls his eyes. 

“We slept in a bed together, I think that would have been a pretty opportune time for seduction if that was my goal,” he argues, hugging Michael a little tighter.

“Yeah, but you strike me as the long con type,” Michael tells him. “Also, you’re squishing me.”

Luke lets go of him, bushing a little. He’d like to be the long con type, he thinks, but the situation doesn't exactly permit it. 

“Give me your phone,” Michael says. “You have Whatsapp? Our numbers won’t connect internationally.”

Luke fumbles in his pocket and digs out his phone, opening the app and handing it to Michael, watching as he adds himself as a contact and messages himself so he has Luke’s information. 

Michael sighs. “Well, this is where I leave you for your White Christmas, Lukey. I’ll send you a postcard from my next destination, yeah?” He salutes Luke, smiling at him, but it looks bittersweet. Luke watches him go to the car, getting in and turning on the ignition. 

He stares at the Kia, thinking about Michael sitting next to him on the curb at the airport, Michael popping marshmallows into his mouth and offering him a ride. Michael singing along to the radio, tapping his hands on the wheel. Michael curled up close to him at night, watching the snowfall outside and before he knows it, he’s running after the car. It’s just peeling away and he throws himself in front of it, making Michael slam on the brakes.

“Wait!”

Michael rolls down the drivers side window and sticks his head out. “Are you crazy? I could have murdered you!”

“We already covered this, you would have killed me a long time ago if you wanted to,” Luke pants, tapping the hood of the car as if to congratulate it for stopping. Michael kills the engine completely, stepping out of the car and walking to Luke. 

“Did you forget something?”

“Stay.”

Michael squints at him. “Stay?”

Luke nods. “Yeah, stay. Have Christmas with us.”

“No.”

Luke frowns. “Michael, please?”

“Luke, that’s your family in there,” Michael says softly. “They’re waiting for you, not for us. They don’t want me there, trust me,” he assures Luke. 

“Hey, don’t paint my family in an exclusionary light,” Luke says, poking his arm softly. “Liz Hemmings always makes enough Christmas dinner for twenty people. And I know you can eat enough for five, I saw how many scones you had this morning,” he reminds Michael. 

“Luke, seriously, they have no idea I’m here, I’d feel like I was imposing.”

“You’re not,” Luke insists. “My mom is just grateful you got me here at all, and they love company. She wants you to. Please, stay.”

Michael looks up at him, biting his lip questioningly. “You asked her?”

Luke nods. “I was kind of hoping I could rope you into it.”

Michael sighs, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know, Luke.”

Luke pouts, batting his eyelashes in what he hopes is a convincing manner.  _ “Please.” _

Michael sighs again and rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

Luke’s eyes widen and he grins. “Yes?”

Michael finally smiles back, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Yes! Okay, yes.”

Luke squeals happily, hugging him tightly and almost lifting him off the ground before he runs to grab Michael’s things from the car for him, dragging them and him up to the front door and knocking loudly. 

After a few moments, the door opens and his mother comes into view, smiling and holding a mixing bowl. 

“Oh, my baby! It’s so good to see you!” she croons, hugging Luke tightly with the arm not holding the bowl. “And you must be Michael,” she says, turning to him and giving him a hug as well which Michael hesitantly returns. “Thank you so much for getting him here in one piece. That storm was terrible, we were worried he wouldn’t be able to come.”

“It was no problem, really,” Micahel tells her, and Luke can tell he’s feeling a bit shy, a side of Michael he’s yet to see until now. 

“Well, problem or not, I can’t thank you enough. I have my baby for Christmas,” Liz tells him. “And you’re staying too, aren’t you?”

“Oh, um. I don’t know,” Michael shrugs. “Luke asked. I’m not sure.”

“You don’t have any plans?”

“Well, I mean, not really, but-”

“Then you’re staying,” Liz tells him, and there’s a distinct air of finality in her voice. “Come on, get your things, dinner’s soon. You boys took your time, didn’t you. Come in, come in, it’s cold, it’s wet…..”

She trails off and they follow her in the house. It smells like roast dinner and Luke can hear voices coming from the other room. 

“Boys! Lukey’s here!” his mom calls out and a the voices cheer, getting louder until the door to the entry from the kitchen bursts open and Ben and Jack come barreling through, nearly knocking Luke over with the force of the hug they both give him at once. 

“Luke, you look gangly as ever,” Ben tells him, ruffling his hair fondly. “How’s the degree?”

Luke fixes his curls, glancing over at Michael who’s smiling while he watches them. “Good, it’s-”

“You meet any Scottish supermodels in your travels?” Jack interrupts.

“Do those exist?” Luke asks, not recalling ever hearing of one before. 

Jack shrugs. “Well, you’d know…”

“Hang on, who’s this?” Ben asks, letting go of Luke and noticing Michael for the first time, who gives him a small wave. “Did baby Lukey bring a  _ date  _ to Christmas?”

Luke feels himself flush. “No, no date, um, this is Michael, he drove me here,” he manages. Michael raises an eyebrow at him, mouthing ‘ _ no date?’  _ and pouting slightly. Luke blushes even further. 

“He  _ drove  _ you here?” Jack repeats. “Jesus, where were all the planes?”

“The storm, idiot, he couldn’t fly. Where have you been?” Ben says, flicking Jack on the forehead. 

“Tending to my infant child, which I have to say takes precedence over minor weather conditions.”

Luke lights up, clapping his hands together. “Speaking of infant children…” he raises his eyebrows hopefully. 

“Ah, she’s asleep at the moment,” Jack tells him. “But she’ll be up in a bit. In the meantime, tell us how you two met,” he gestures between Luke and Michael. “Is it serious? Should we expect nuptials anytime soo-”

“Let them catch their breath, boys,” Liz interrupts. “Luke, go put your things upstairs, plenty of room for you both, go on.”

Luke nods, thanking god for his mother, and beckons for Michael to follow him, heading upstairs to his room and dumping his stuff inside the door. Michael sets his things down and gestures to the single bed. 

“Ah, trying to get me into bed again, I see.”

Luke snorts. “It wasn’t too hard last time.’

“Are you calling me easy?” Michael asks in mock offense. 

Luke shrugs. “If the shoe fits.”

Michael frowns, crossing to the bed and sitting down, knocking his feet together and nodding. “They do. Size ten.”

He keeps looking at his feet with the utmost concentration, biting his lip and frowning. Luke goes to sit next to him, knocking their shoulders together softly. “Hey, what’s wrong.”

Michael looks up at him, and he looks worried. “I don’t do this, Luke. I don’t do family.”

Luke nods, thinking for a moment about everything Michael’s told him so far, everything he’s seen and heard from him. “Do you want to?”

Michael huffs out a deep breath and sniffles a little bit, still knocking his feet together. 

“Yeah.”

“Then come on.”

\-----

Dinner is perfect. Luke’s parents outdo themselves every year, making far too much food and passing dishes around the table until everyone is sick of eating. Michael blends in perfectly, his shyness ebbing away with time as the evening goes on, and by the middle of dinner he’s in a loud discussion with Jack about the integrity of coffee beans. Luke spends much of his time making silly faces at Aurora, who Jack let him sit next to. She’s precious, all smiles and gurgles and Luke helps clean her up when she gets mashed carrot all over her face. 

He catches Michael smiling at him every now and then, and his heart almost aches with the feeling that Michael is supposed to be there, that he was meant to be part of their family, even just for one night. 

They pull Christmas crackers and pretend they have room for pie after dinner, and at ten Liz sends them all to bed, as per their family Christmas Eve tradition.

“Santa might pass you up if you stay up too late!” she tells them, ushering them into the stairwell, and even though Luke is twenty three, he still nods seriously, agreeing with her and shutting his door tightly, falling down into his bed and waiting for Michael to do the same.

He collapses next to Luke, facing him and groaning slightly. 

“I ate so much I think I might die,” he complains, and closes his eyes before he talks again, more softly. “Thank you. For giving me this.”

“It’s me who should be thanking you,” Luke says earnestly. “You brought me here.”

“We brought each other here,” Michael tells him, opening his eyes and pushing a curl out of Luke’s face. 

Luke smiles. “I guess so.”

He stares at Michael, the green of his eyes and the warmth of the way he’s looking back at Luke, and there’s nothing in the world he can do other than find what little bravery lives in his bones and lean in to kiss him. So he does.

Michael freezes for a moment and Luke for one terrible second that he’s made a mistake, that all the flirting was just a joke, but then he feels Michael melt into it, kissing him back gently but with so much care Luke feels like he’s floating. 

He has a thought and sinks back to Earth too quickly for his liking, pulling away from Michael’s soft lips and looking down, frowning.

“What’s wrong,” Michael asks gently. 

“Nothing, I just...feel like maybe I shouldn't have done that,” he says. 

“Oh.” Michael’s voice is small and Luke can feel him starting to move back, curling in on himself. 

“No!” He rushes to clarify. “No, I just mean...I don’t know.” He sighs. “You live in LA. I’m studying in Scotland. I think I’m getting too…” He buries his head in the pillow and mumbles into it. “I don’t want to get too attached.”

He feels a kiss on his cheek and Michael whispers softly. “You know, Arbor day is a hard day for me and my family too. I may need to take a vacation to Europe around then.”

Luke knits his eyebrows together, confused but keeping his face planted firmly in his pillow. 

“And St. Patrick’s day has always been a rough one,” Michael continues. 

Luke starts to smile, lifting his head up slightly to look at Michael who nods and raises his eyebrows, holding up his hands and counting off. “Presidents day… Earth Day…”

Luke giggles and Michael grins at him. “Labor day..”

Luke leans in to kiss him again. “Come with me.”

“Where?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, though, just leans in and kisses Luke again, snuggling into him and sighing happily into his mouth. Luke lets him, for a bit, but then pulls away, ignoring his pout. 

“Come on, get your boots on,” he says, swinging his feet over the bed.

Michael huffs. “My boots?”

“Your size ten boots. Come on.”

Michael grumbles but gets ready, bundling up in his coat and gloves and following Luke downstairs and outside, shifting from one foot to the other in the snow. 

“It’s cold, what are we doing out here?” he complains. “You know, Santa is gonna pass us over, like your mom said.”

Luke ignores him, pointing at the sky. “Look.”

There are snowflakes swirling delicately in the air, beautiful tiny little jewel-like patterns that twist and turn and then melt away when they reach the ground.

“Do you want to try?” Luke asks him. 

Michael looks puzzled. “Try for what?”

“For a perfect Christmas.” 

Michael blinks and then smiles softly, remembering what he had told Luke the night before about his grandmother. He looks up at the sky, the swirling snow, and sticks his tongue out, moving his head back and letting a snowflake fall on it after a minute. He grins and leans in to kiss Luke, and Luke can feel the cold on his tongue when he does. 

He pulls back from Luke and kisses his nose softly. “Maybe she was right, you know.”

“She was,” Luke tells him.

“Oh? And how are you so sure?” Michael asks.

“Because,” Luke tells him, pulling him in and hugging him close. "This seems just about perfect to me."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you thought in the comments! it means so so much! meeerrrry christmas :)


End file.
